Ashes
by callsign-REDACTED
Summary: A young technician seeks to find his way home as the Confederacy of Independent Systems invades his planet. A series of bizarre events threatens his plan to find his family and may change the course of his life. (This story is in progress and may change significantly. Some explicit language and violence is depicted.)
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: The Tribe**

Pebbles crunched beneath Kett's boots as he trudged along the rubble-littered sidewalk. Smoke and ashes wafted up gently from the smoldering ruins of shops and houses, permeating each breath of air with the pungent odor of burnt bodies and synthetics. In only a day or two, the stench of decay would take over – but Kett didn't plan to stay that long. His home was a continent away, and battle droid squads were still patrolling even in the remote wilderness of his native planet Sarodon.

Two days before, he'd come across an elderly couple living in a small cottage in the forest. The droids had not disturbed them, they said, but it might only be a matter of time. Most of the towns in the Centar Region had been razed, the civilians rounded up and shipped to wherever the Separatists decided. Nobody knew for sure; those lucky enough to evade capture had no reliable contact with outside sources.

The old man had kindly given Kett his old service carbine and two power packs, enough to give him a fighting chance should he run across a group of droids. Kett didn't intend to have any run-ins, though. For now, it was hard enough just to find food and water along the way home, and fighting was too great a risk to his life. From time to time, Kett would duck beneath a fallen awning or take cover in a burnt-out house when the guttural whine of massive troop landing ships broke the nearly serene stillness. They probably weren't scanning anyways, but it wouldn't hurt to hide just in case.

He scanned the remains nearby for food, or tools, or working devices. From memory alone, Kett could remember these first dozens of kilometers on the way home – he'd traveled the route many days to and from work in Centar City. But the scenery looked much different on foot, and passed much more slowly. The battle droids had been efficient in their destruction, he noted. A few squads could overpower a town's police force with ease, and just as quickly burn every standing structure until it fell or was otherwise rendered useless. The effect was pure devastation wherever they marched.

Kett pulled his cap brim up and wiped his forehead, already itching where his hair had grown down over his forehead. Were it not for this invasion, Kett would have had it cut. He stopped to remember what all had come to pass in the past few years.

When fighting first broke out on Geonosis, the politicians had said this civil war would be over quickly. The Separatists would be defeated handily with the help of those mysterious clones. A Sarodan regiment was even raised to augment the clones at the war's start, only to be wiped out to the man on some moon halfway across the galaxy – that hadn't gone over well with the Sarodan public.

Now the Separatists had come in force, and the Republic's glorious Grand Army was nowhere to be seen. Kett felt some dark amusement at the thought of those stupid legislators being blasted away by Separatist firing squads. In fact, Kett had heard that the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic had himself been abducted by the Separatists, and he felt no more sympathy for that old man Palpatine than his own representatives.

The whirr of STAP swoops broke through Kett's imagination, and he looked around for cover. "Blast!" he exclaimed, seeing only decimated piles and a few burnt bushes nearby. He took a deep breath, and thought quickly. He had one shot to save his skin, and his plan had better work. So he holstered the blaster and waved his arms frantically. "Hey! Over here!" Kett yelled desperately.

The droids took note, naturally, and immediately trained their blaster cannons on him as they approached. The STAP's were intimidating, to be sure, but Kett had an advantage. Superior intelligence. In a matter of seconds, the swoops came to a halt two meters ahead of Kett and stopped. "Hold it right there," one droid ordered. "You're under arrest."

"B-but the commander ordered us to flush these woods for stragglers," Kett stammered. He didn't have to pretend he was nervous, at least. "We were sent by a command droid to find survivors," he explained again. "We're loyal Separatists."

"That does not compute," the droid replied. "I have no record of militia units operating in this area. Let me see your identification," it ordered. Kett walked up to the STAP's, standing where he could see both droids from the side while pretending to search his pockets for an identification chip.

"I'm reading multiple human-sized life forms on my scope," the other droid chimed.

That was interesting, Kett hadn't noticed anyone. "My team, sir," he bluffed. "I think some of them are still sweeping the area." He was inching closer to the blaster on his hip, still patting each pocket deliberately.

"Why aren't you with your team?" the first droid inquired. Did Kett detect a note of suspicion in its monotone voice?

"They sent me to, er, pick that up over there," Kett said as he pointed away towards a smoking heap a few meters away.

Of all things, they both looked. Kett pulled his blaster out quickly and smoothly, raised it to eye level, and blasted the droids in rapid succession. Their metal frames crumpled away from their mounts and fell to the ground with a clanking thud. Kett stepped over each one and blasted its head. He didn't want either to survive long enough to send a distress signal to the surrounding droid forces.

Kett's mind turned instantly to the life forms. He still grasped his blaster tightly, in case these life forms weren't so friendly either. Perhaps they were a scavenging group roaming through the woods, or just a family of survivors. Kett broke for the wood line to find cover before stopping dead in his tracks as a burly Twi'Lek man emerged from behind one bush with a blaster rifle pointed at Kett's chest. A young human boy materialized, similarly armed. Then Kett realized he was surrounded. It was a trap. He lowered his blaster.

"Where you going, stranger?" asked a chirpy female voice from behind. "You weren't going to leave without so much as a hello, were you?" Kett dared not reply yet. "Quiet, hm? We can fix that."

"Why don't you let me soften him up a bit?" the burly one asked her. Kett fixed his gaze on him, but kept his ears open in anticipation of an attack from the side. "Just a little fun, eh?"

"Last time you softened one up, there was no fun left," a raspy voice added from the side. "You finished up and didn't leave us anything," it added with a pretentious note of bitterness.

A footstep behind him. Movement. Kett ducked as a fist sailed over where his ear had been, then kicked out in the direction of his assailant. The masked figure crumpled backwards, clearly stunned, as the circle of bandits looked on in startled silence. Kett held his fire, knowing he couldn't defeat them. The Twi'Lek woman stood slowly, clutching her gut where Kett's boot had connected. "You're quicker than most," she conceded with a note of pain. Kett held his tongue.

"Good thing 'e didna ketch ye in tha reebs," said a Devaronian with a thick North Country accent. "Yee'd be bent over wid' a few brok'n ones, for sure."

Kett looked about quickly to plan an escape. With these bandits circled around him, they'd be stupid to fire at once – surely a few bolts would miss and hit an unintended target. He looked for a weak link. Not the kid, the kid might just be trigger happy. Not the guffawing monster with a heavy blaster propped on his hip, either. The thin one he'd just kicked was armed. Still reeling. Kett took a deep breath.

He wheeled around with the mad speed of a dervish, and pounced on the female as she still struggled to regain her balance. She writhed and kicked as her comrades came to pull Kett away, but he quickly thrust his blaster upward and fired. The other bandits backed away, but would not be deterred long.

Kett dropped his carbine, and the female reached for it. Kett clamped her right arm down with his, and with his left he reached for the vibroblade on her hip. Kett grasped the handle and activated it. The hum startled her, and she stopped struggling for a moment. He brought the blade's tip to bear on her unprotected neck, stopping just short of her windpipe. "Anybody move, and she gets it!" Kett yelled.

Even if they blasted him now, any tiny movement would cause serious harm to the female. He held the high ground now, and they knew it. Only, Kett wasn't sure just how valuable this girl was – or wasn't. He found out in short order. "Drop them," she said just loud enough for the other bandits to hear. "Now, okay?"

Each one dropped their weapon slowly and took a step back.

"What's next?" Kett asked.

"Your move, cowboy," she observed despondently.

Kett looked up. "Everybody step back!" They did, amazingly enough. Kett needed a new plan now. But maybe something different. "Alright, miss, I'ma back up slowly. Any sudden moves, and I'll stick this vibroblade anywhere."

"Easy there," she muttered as she rolled back and sat up. Kett took the blaster and sat opposite her. "Now?" she prodded.

"Now we talk. Like civilized people," he added as the other bandits returned slowly to their weapons lying on the ground. "How about we start this conversation over again, hm?" Kett proposed between ragged breaths. "I think we might just be able to help each other out."

"I'm listening," she replied as her comrades stood with weapons leveled. "Let's hear it."

"My name's Kett Wilson. I'm a repair tech for Sarodon United's Material Engineering Division. You?"

The female drew her hood and mask down to show her strikingly deep green skin and two light blue eyes. "Nia," she replied. "We're Draxon Clan." Draxon Clan, Kett recalled, had not been of much consequence to law enforcement. There were many roving bands of separatists on Sarodon, some criminal and others simply nomadic. Draxon was militaristic, but rarely violent.

"We do good for those who do us good," Nia explained. "And we make things hard for those who do us wrong. You're on the line," she warned.

"Maybe," Kett conceded. "But my neck isn't the only one sticking out," he added with a nod toward the blaster he held in her direction. Kett thought quickly. "This invasion has us all under threat. I don't like the idea of dying alone out here, and I'm sure that Clan Draxon could use some technical experience."

"You think you can roll with us?" Nia probed with a hint of disbelief.

"Maybe," Kett answered as he handed the vibroblade back to its owner with care. "I'm just saying, I've got the know-how to tune your weapons and salvage gear. We could help each other."

Nia took the blaster gingerly and rocked it in her hand. "Or, I could just shoot you now."

"True," Kett conceded. "Question is, am I better to you alive or dead? Don't just throw away free help."

"No such thing as free help," Nia contradicted. "Somehow, I don't think you're all gushing with sympathy for our plight," she said.

"I have a family to find. They'll need me," Kett explained. "But I can't make it there on my own. Until I can find my way back, I'll stand a better chance of survival with your clan."

Nia cracked a sly smile. "Then you may speak to my father."

A middle-aged Twi'Lek man emerged from the brush several minutes later, and dozens more Draxons of various species seemed to materialize from the woods behind him. "I hear, young man, that you think yourself of value to us." The Twi'Lek seemed amused. "That is fine – I certainly would not tolerate a Draxon who thought nothing of himself. But what remains to be seen, Mr. Wilson, is whether you are as worthy of our name as you were of the United Corporation's pay."

As the elder Draxon stood beside his daughter, the handful of partisans encircling them faded back into the group, and started off along a path – presumably to their camp. "I don't like to go in blind," Kett said carefully. "What's to prove?"

"Nothing which will necessarily tax you, nor endanger you – although, should you fail, I must warn you that we cannot simply allow you to walk away with knowledge of our whereabouts," the man warned as they followed.

"Of course," Kett replied graciously. "And I must likewise make it clear that I will not make myself an easy target in that… unlikely case." For all his bold speech, Kett was still fearful. He had already survived a Separatist invasion, and did not want to die at the hands of a bunch of bandits.

"Ah, to be young again," the man mused wistfully. "But first we must build our camp, and eat. The clan has been moving all day, as we prepare to launch a fresh attack."

Kett waited for the man to look back at him. "I guess you know my name, but how should I call you?"

The older man smiled as he adjusted his shoulder pack. "I am Draxonus. I was born Drake, son of Draxonus and heir to the Draxon Eldership."

"It's an honor, then," Kett said politely. "What of this attack?"

"We will wait to see how you pass our trial first, and decide then what to tell you of our plans," Nia interjected.

"Fair enough," Kett conceded. They continued their hike in silence, following a single scout back to a small clearing atop a ridge where mostly women and children were gathered. As they arrived, the various clan members began to pitch small tents and prepare meals.

Kett followed Draxonus to the center of the camp, where he and Nia sat on the bare ground. Kett joined them, unsure of what custom might dictate. "Here," Draxonus handed Kett a wafer, "Eat with us."

Kett broke the wafer and offered half to Nia beside him. She took a generous bite before washing it down with a slug from her canteen. Kett likewise began to chew on his share of the wafer, hungry from the day's trek behind him.

Draxonus smiled quietly, apparently noting Kett's caution with the proffered food. Draxonus himself had not taken any of the wafer – perhaps it was poisoned or spoiled. But Nia had eaten, and Draxonus did not object. Therefore, the food must be whole. A wise move, Draxonus concluded. How would the young Kett handle their test, he wondered?

Nia offered her canteen in return, which Kett gladly accepted. Its contents surprised him. With the first mouthful he tasted not water, but a slightly sweet liquid that left a bitter aftertaste. It was garonsho, the nectar of a large flower found in the surrounding wilderness. Its consumption was lightly regulated in some locales due to a slight intoxicating effect, but could not be considered akin to strong drinks or liquors.

"Did you harvest this yourself?" Kett inquired thoughtfully.

"Yes," she answered.

"It tastes good. Wild garonsho is not easy to tap around here," Kett noted. The seasonal swings of the Centar Region were not as kind to the large, bulbous garon flower as were the temperate climes of the equatorial belt, but the native garon flower's nectar still provided an ample source of hydration for hikers and explorers who knew where to find them.

They ate on in silence for a few moments longer before Draxonus pulled a small flask from his pack along with two tiny glasses. "Now that we have dined, as is our custom, let us begin the trial. We have long inducted outsiders to our clan by a test of their wit and sincerity. Over the years, our forefathers found it of great aid to utilize the effect of certain herbal drugs to extract more - shall we say, honest? – responses from visitors like yourself."

Kett felt a bit uncomfortable now. Under the effect of a drug, he would have little chance to escape should things go awry. Even so, he had no chance to escape even given all his faculties to work with. There would be only one way out, and that was the way in: by passing the test.

Kett shifted uneasily as the clan gathered around in a makeshift circle, babies crying in the laps of their mothers and children jabbing each other in little struggles for space. The older men and some women gathered closer to Kett and Draxonus, apparently a sign of prestige and trust.

"You are, no doubt, aware of the properties of a riddle and its purpose?" Draxonus asked.

"Generally speaking, yes," Kett answered.

"So you know what a riddle is. But how you handle one, that's what I want to see. Are you prepared?"

"I suppose," Kett said. Draxonus poured a glass of tea from the flask and handed it to Kett, before pouring a second and setting it down between them. Kett smelled the tea first; it had a strange, musky odor. It would likely be most palatable if drunk quickly without tasting. He poured the contents down his throat and swallowed quickly.

It took effect almost immediately; Kett felt his extremities relax and all sensation of pressure fade away. His mind seemed to float about him, lingering like a cloud over his head. Yet, Kett noted, he could still think clearly. It was a strange feeling, being somehow intoxicated and yet acutely conscious of it. "I think we're ready," Kett declared.

"Very well, then. Suppose I hold in my right hand the life of a young child, an innocent. In the other, I hold the lives of five aged men, equally innocent. I propose to shut one hand or the other, and crush the life within it – and it is your choice what life to take, and what life to preserve. What do you choose, and why?"

Kett pondered for a moment, his mind slogging through a fog. The answer was clear, the facts laid out plainly. But would his answer be correct? Perhaps another answer, or another reason? His eyes darted to Nia's, who gazed back with intent expectation. The scores of partisans about him watched quietly, without a hint of emotion – only patient observance. Kett knew he was high, but how high? Were these questions inside logical, or merely a challenging effect?

It would still be better to answer honestly, though, even if his answer might not seem the most prudent. After all, was it not laid out in the riddle itself? Had not the Draxon elder led him to a choice? He had, but was it guidance or diversion? Wherein did the riddle lie? With the moral dilemma, or the choice itself? Kett would gamble on honesty.

"I would kill you. If you'd kill one innocent, why not kill five? And if you would kill five, then one more would mean nothing. Besides, if you wanted to torture me like that, you'd probably just kill me too. If we are all doomed to death, why play your game? I would rather go down fighting."

There was a murmur in the crowd around, Kett could hear. But their voices he couldn't tell apart. Draxonus still stared stoically, but was there a smile playing on his daughter's lips? Draxonus stood slowly. "Stand with me, young man, your fate is to be sealed now." Kett stood up, surprisingly light on his feet now.

"Clan of Draxon," Draxonus bellowed, "Here stands before us an outsider! How shall he die?"

Kett looked about quickly, but there was nowhere to run. Would this be how it all ended, he wondered?

Draxonus looked about at the crowd. They remained silent for a moment, before Nia herself stood and spoke. "Nia, daughter of Draxonus. The outsider shall die a Draxon! Who here stands with me?"

The crowd roared a deep, guttural howl. Kett felt as though the woods shook around him as they roared. What was in that tea, after all?

"Then, by the report of the children of Draxon, I commend the outsider Kett as a son of Draxon! Let him live as one of us, die as one of us! It has been decided!" Draxonus concluded, to the cheering crowd. Amid the whoops, screams, and roaring of the Draxons, Draxonus handed Kett the second glass.

As the cheering died down, Draxonus resumed the proceedings. "It was declared, many generations ago, that outsiders would be forever bonded to a native Draxon, their adopted kin. We chose that the new Draxon should share in drink with their fellow Draxon, and that the Draxon's kin should name him. It has been done so for these generations, and here the Draxon known as Kett now holds in his hand the glass of fellowship."

"My brother," he said to Kett, "It is your great privilege and right as a son of Draxon and brother of those about you to select one to whom you will be bound. This Draxon will be your defender to the clan, and you will in turn serve them for a time in honor of the name. The decision is yours, young Kett."

Kett handled the glass, looking about it, still absorbing the ceremony around him. Only that morning, he had been digging through a graveyard looking for scraps to survive on. Now he was to choose someone from a roving clan to whom he'd be indebted for an indefinite time – and that could mean anything. But a more tribal side of Kett took hold, as he assumed the character of the people about him. Much had changed in the past few days anyways; why not join a clan, then?

Kett lifted his glass up to eye level. "I choose you," he said, staring into the eyes of the elder's daughter, "Nia, daughter of Draxonus. You spoke for me before, and I trust that you will speak for me now."

She stood, beaming, and took the glass from Kett's hand. Nia drank it quickly, and stared him in the eyes as she began. "Today I name you Kett Draxon, cunning and gracious in victory. May you live long and raise strong children to the Draxon name!" She raised her glass high above her head, and as Kett followed it with his eyes, she delivered a swift kick to his abdomen. Those who had seen her fall to the same attack earlier erupted in uncontrolled laughter as Kett crumpled to the ground, similarly shamed.

"A great honor has been given to us," Draxonus declared, wiping his eyes between hearty guffaws. "We are joined by our brother Kett! We cannot rest, though. The war continues, and we seek to injure our enemy tonight. Let us rest for an hour, and resume the Kett then; ready yourselves for a long night!"

As the clan returned to their meals, Kett faced Nia and attempted a smile through the semi-numb feeling in his face – that tea still had him feeling mildly woozy. "You have spirit, for sure," Kett complemented as Nia picked him up by the hand. "What's this binding about?"

The young woman, now also inebriated, laughed aloud with the mirth of a drunk. "You, Kett, will carry my pack for a month! And feed me! And I expect only the best!" She doubled over with laughter. Kett noted that the tea seemed to have a different effect on Nia. Or did it? Did he look this ridiculous too?

Draxonus sought to intervene, apparently embarrassed by his daughter's behavior. "While our ceremony does call for the flask, I did not anticipate that my daughter would react so… well? It seems to draw out her playful side."

"Father! You are being entirely too stoic!" Nia said with a smile. "He doesn't mean to be so stuffy, Kett, it's just the nature of eldership. And I, for one, will not really make you carry all my stuff. I would like to at least keep a change of clothes for myself!" she declared before bursting into another round of laughter.

Kett laughed along politely, unsure how to proceed in the conversation. Draxonus must have sensed his apprehension, and prodded his daughter to cease her hilarity. "Nia, my daughter, you should at least take a moment to be serious with our new Draxon brother. I must confer with the council, now." As Draxon walked away, Nia returned to her seat in the grass and beckoned Kett to join her.

Kett sat down slowly, still unsure of his motor functions or how long the effect would last. Nia reached into her sack and retrieved a sack of dehydrated meat, then offered some to Kett. "Take a bit. It's tough, but you'll need it tonight." As Kett took a bite, she continued. "Now that my father is gone, I can speak candidly. You aren't really indebted to me like that. It's just an archaic old idea that we still kinda practice."

"Used to be, you might actually do stuff for me like wash my clothes and carry my pack, or a baby if I had one. Or if I was a guy, you'd carry my hunting weapon and some of my gear. But really, we don't have time for that. So you'll just follow me, and learn about Draxons and stuff and things we do."

Kett began to adjust to the effects of the tea, and proceeded with his earlier question about the attack. "So, then, what now? Are you attacking the Separatists?" he asked.

"For now," she answered, "We get ready for tonight." She giggled before adding, "But not like that! There's nothing going on tonight between us, except an attack, which is not the same as what I sounded like I was saying!"

Kett winced inside, hoping that the tea had not affected him so badly. He realized, then, that he was repeating his thoughts. And Kett vaguely noted that he had started to feel all too comfortable with a strange girl. Judging by her continual subdued laughter, Nia was losing a few inhibitions of her own.

"Anyways, what I was saying…" Nia paused for breath, "Is that we will be preparing a raiding party for tonight. Probably, you'll stay behind. So I'll stay behind too. Because your debt is to me, so it would kinda ruin the whole thing if I just up and died, right?" She chuckled again, albeit a bit darkly. "Maybe we'll both live through an entire month! That would be fantastic, right?"

"I guess," Kett replied with a smile. Nia didn't smile so brightly anymore. Had she remembered something terrible? "What's wrong?" he asked (and to his surprise, with genuine worry!).

"Nothing special," she began. "Just, we aren't ready for the Separatists. They're too well armed. Every time a raiding party comes back, someone dies. And, what's worse," she said quietly, "They have had to leave some behind. Draxons, dead in the field! It's shameful, and the families mourn so much. We were strong; only a month before the invasion we were three hundred strong! Now there are only a hundred of us."

"Some died, some left. The traitors surrendered, leaving us alone out here. The droids attack us whenever they see us! Even the children!" She looked ready to cry, but bit her lip. "It's no matter, though," Nia said with resolve. "We are Draxons, and we will always survive."

Kett held his tongue in preference of waiting until all his faculties had returned. As they sat silently chewing on strips of jerky, Kett felt guilty. Here these people were in search of new blood to carry their name on to a new generation, and – in their own, strange way – had entrusted Kett with their legacy. Yet he had no plans to stay. Clan Draxon and Nia would only be short stops along his way to find his true family.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Trauma**

An hour later, Kett found himself filling canteens with fresh water from a nearby spring. To the advantage of any creature in the Recarfous Forests of Sarodon were its many warm springs, fed up from deep within Sarodon's relatively cool mantle. Intense radiation from the deep core sanitized the springs, yet due to some quirk in Sarodan geology, the water rarely carried even nominal quantities of radioactive materials. The result was abundant pure water throughout the region.

Now, as the sun settled over the horizon, the temperature dropped to a balmy 19 degrees standard. Kett kept an ear open for the rustling of leaves or the hum of a troop transport nearby; nearby footsteps might belong to a fresh meal, or to death itself. Either way, Kett kept a ready hand for the blaster at his side as he continued working.

Soon, the final canteen had been filled and Kett slung the canvas sack full of canteens and flasks over his shoulder for the trek back to camp. As he trudged along between two great boulders, a voice hailed him from behind.

"You are no Draxon," the voice said in a low tone.

Kett started, dropped the sack and drew his blaster. Yet, to his surprise, there was no one there. He looked about to no avail.

"Imposter!" the voice snarled from behind him once more.

Kett turned again, but nobody was there. "Who are you?" Kett demanded. "What do you want?"

The voice laughed viciously. "Why, I should ask the same of you! Who are you? What do you want?"

Kett felt a strange sensation, a feeling that someone was there, but not a familiar presence. Someone of a different nature. Kett didn't believe in spirits, but this was eerie nonetheless. "I'm Kett Wilson, and I'm just trying to find my family. Now, what the hell is going on?"

"Fool!" the voice bellowed, and all was silent once more.

Kett filled his sack once again with the canteens that had spilled on the forest floor, cursing whatever or whoever had distracted him. It was growing dark now, and he did not know these woods well. It would be dangerous to continue hiking soon. So he shouldered his load again, and set out for the camp as before.

Only ten minutes away from the camp, the voice returned. "You fool! You seek what is lost forever, and reject what you have found."

"Says who?" Kett challenged.

There was no reply.

Kett shrugged and continued on. Either that tea had not worn off, or some acoustic manipulation was at play. Either way, Kett cared little. He arrived back at camp just as the darkness settled in. Once the canteens had been dropped at the staging tent, Kett returned to Draxonus's fire where he and Nia sat discussing some private topic. They hushed as Kett sat nearby.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt," Kett apologized.

"No matter," Draxonus assured. "But I am afraid we may need to impose on you further this day."

"In what way?"

"Well, it happens that our raiding party is rather thin tonight. We need these supplies for our survival – wildlife alone is not enough to sustain our clan in these harsh times. Orr-Tanos, our best scout, has found a droid rally point about one kilometer to the north; although the droids have no need of food, there are a number of traitors who are working with them to process prisoners there. We expect to find a sizeable stash of rations that should suffice for some time."

Kett frowned thoughtfully. "I suppose I understand. But what am I needed for?"

"We have lost some valuable Draxon warriors in the field since the invasion, and I need my rear guard to help supplement the forward combat team. In place of the rear guard, I will need you and several of our capable women and boys to replace them. I don't like doing things this way, but circumstances dictate such action."

Nia nodded in agreement, but Kett balked. "Aren't there only a couple dozen men remaining? Why attack?"

Draxonus lowered his head, acknowledging Kett's point. "You see my dilemma exactly. We are short on manpower, and short on supplies. The droids have intentionally set their patrols about the abandoned villages and farms to capture or destroy looters. We cannot avoid them anymore, and I am forced to battle for resources."

Kett wasn't convinced, but held his tongue. These Draxon people meant little to him, personally. He was primarily concerned with what peril the elder Draxonus's decisions would put him in. Should Kett fall in battle, it would mean little to the Draxons and do nothing to aid his family, wherever they may be. Still, it was not Kett's choice to make any longer; his lot had been cast with the Draxons.

"I would be proud to help any way I can," Kett replied in contradiction to his true feelings. "How should I prepare?"

"Take a canteen," Nia advised. "You should probably keep that handy," she said, pointing to the blaster on his thigh. "We'll probably just hang back and guard the rear flank. In the meantime, just rest up and make sure you've eaten."

Kett tried to relax as he watched Draxonus organize his men. They were an unorthodox group, but disciplined and likely effective. Two squads of four were chosen, each with a heavy blaster and three riflemen. A reserve squad of four riflemen, Draxonus, and his lieutenant together made fourteen total. No doubt, Draxonus must have had some military training.

Nia formed her rear guard with one of the women and two young boys who volunteered. The Rodian Taela was betrothed to one of the riflemen from the second squad, and wished to support her husband-to-be in battle. The two human boys, Greb and Cordin, were twin brothers of fifteen years orphaned in the invasion. They seemed healthy and capable, each carrying heavily customized slugthowers.

As the night settled in, the desert moon Candis rose overhead fully bathed in the splendor of Sarodon's sun. In an hour, her sibling Capos would rise in its similar, more distant orbit; the "Brother and Sister" of Sarodon's night sky would illuminate the forest with their bright light, casting tiny rays through the treetops onto the ground below.

Kett cursed the stumps and rocks littered about as he tripped over a rotting heap of wood; ahead he could hear the crunching of leaves where Draxonus and his reserve squad moved steadily forward. First squad moved in advance, behind Orr-Tanos; second squad held the eastern flank about seventy meters away. Nia's rear guard held about thirty meters to the southwest, offering protection to the rear and western flanks as the four groups trekked north.

The cackle of a nightjay sounded from far away, echoed by a response from Draxonus's squad. The advance squad must have encountered the droids' perimeter. They all halted silently, according to plan; momentarily, second squad began sweeping around to the far west to infiltrate from that side of the camp. Kett listened closely as their light footsteps faded into the noise of clickers and the chattering Pika birds.

He looked over at Nia, who returned his stare. She showed no sign of nervousness, or anxiety. She seemed well built to withstand the pressure of imminent combat, grasping her DL-18 blaster pistol with confidence. Taela fidgeted slightly, pulling at strands of hair. The boys signed to each other in silent communication, no doubt excited to test themselves in a fight.

Kett felt his own heart rate climb with expectation, and already planned a quick exit it the opportunity presented itself. These fools had already led him far too close to the droids for comfort, and Kett was eager to leave. Hopefully, the rally point would be poorly staffed at this time. Any staff would likely be asleep, and many of the droids would be charging. In fact, Draxonus had already ordered that the first squad locate the charging source and overload it to disable any connected droids, which would leave only the staff and guard droids standing.

Kett listened closely through the trees, and heard a faint clatter; he looked to his left, and in a clearing, saw something move. "Psst!" The others looked at him. Kett pointed in that direction. Nia held her palm down, signaling the prone position; all five lay belly-down and watched carefully.

Now he could hear them more clearly, the clanking of their joints and the crunching of leaves and twigs beneath their heavy feet. Battle droids, the garden-variety B-1 kind. Two of them, moving in perpendicular to the south. They stopped for a moment.

"I'm getting bored with this assignment," one complained. "Walking around in squares, all day and all night. Ever since my memory wipe, I've just been walking in big squares."

"We perform our duty," the other replied. "Duty is our purpose, and we serve our purpose. Every droid must do its duty."

"You just had your memory wiped. Wait until you've done this for ten charges in a row, you'll see what I mean," the first droid warned. They then turned and faced Kett and Nia's squad, and began marching. Kett's heart raced now; they'd be seen any second now, and the droids would be alerted to the raiders' presence.

But Nia knew exactly how to handle this. "Greb, Cordin! Take them out!" she whispered.

"Did you hear something?" the mouthy droid asked of its companion.

"Audio record shows an anomaly," it replied.

The boys took aim with their slugthrowers, both with baffled barrel vents for silencing. "You got the right?" Greb whispered.

"Easy shot," Cordin replied. "On you."

"Anomaly detecte—" the second droid began, cut short as an 11-millimeter tungsten slug pierced its thinly armored head. The first droid, too, crumpled with a hole in its cranium. Only the whup of slugs slapping the air and the cracking ping of punctured durasteel gave any sign of the group, as the droids fell with a thud.

Nia whistled sharply, signaling an all-clear. The nightjay cackled once more in acknowledgement from the reserve squad, which must have heard the commotion. They would need to move in quickly before the droids were discovered to be missing – which might be any time now.

In only a few seconds, a loud crack rocked the forest. The attack had begun; the charging cells must have been successfully destroyed. Moments later, blaster fire erupted. As the sounds of battle filled the woods, Nia deployed her squad. The five of them took up a circle, back to back, kneeling behind the cover of great wide oka trees. Taela seemed to grow more anxious; she was worried for her fiancée.

Kett worried for her – should Taela's betrothed fall in battle, it would wreck her. He worried for himself and the others, because Taela might have a breakdown. Thankfully, Nia exuded a quiet confidence that Kett found reassuring, and the twins Cordin and Greb had already proven their steadiness. Kett twiddled his fingers on the grip of his blaster with one hand, and picked at a sapling's leaves with his left. In a few moments, they would know how the battle fared.

Blaster fire continued to ring sporadically for a minute, before a dull 'whump!' reverberated through the air and Kett's chest. "What was that?" he asked, almost to himself. There was no reply. No one knew. Another 'whump!' followed a moment later, followed by an intense volley of blaster fire. The distinct drone of a droid gunship filtered through the din, and Kett knew it was a very bad sign. He looked at Nia. She knew too.

"We need to leave," she whispered through gritted teeth. But they seemed to be forgotten by the other squads, left alone and uncomfortably separate from the other squads. She must have wished desperately for a radio or a holo, to find out what was happening. Kett knew he did.

The tell-tale clatter of running droids drew their attention, though. Another patrolling pair ran past to the squad's west, toward the battle; Greb and Cordin quickly took aim and fired. Two shots later, another two droids fell. Those boys were crack shots with their slugthrowers, Kett noted. At least the group could depend on its rear guard.

But the gunship still flew in the distance, and three squads of guerillas were no match for a gunship without anti-air rockets. They needed to retreat immediately. But there was still no sign of the other squads, as the blaster fire thinned. A stray bolt crashed nearby, startling the entire group.

Nia was visibly upset as she stood to address them all. "We need to find the others. Let's go!"

The boys and Taela jumped up, eager to move. Kett stood slowly; he didn't want anything to do with that firefight. But his survival was tied to the Draxons' survival now. "Following you," he assured her.

Nia led the way toward the now-sporadic blaster fire, dodging rocks and jumping over fallen trees with the stamina of an athlete. The others kept up well, and Kett too matched her pace. They were running headlong into the fight now, with no idea of what awaited them.

Ten, twenty, fifty meters now; fallen droids marked a previous advance. Blaster craters still glowed in the tree trunks, and smoke wafted from the shorted droids lying about. The noxious odor of ozone and tibanna gas hung thick in the cool night air; a dead human lay propped against a stump to Kett's right. There had been casualties. He kept running, hoping that the forest would not be his grave too.

"RUN!" The breathless scream belted from a Draxon rifleman as he and Nia nearly collided on opposing paths. "Too… many… we have… to run!"

"What in hell?" Nia demanded. "What happened?" Two others followed, and the lieutenant behind them. "Lieutenant Fet, where is my father?" Nia asked him as he approached.

"Just run!" Fet ordered as he struggled along, a blaster burn still glowing in his thigh. "NOW!"

The rest of them turned tail, Kett included, as the clanking of battle droids approached from the direction of the battle. A blaster bolt whizzed over Kett's shoulder, its almost pleasant warmth touching his neck and cheek. "Kriff!" he cursed aloud. "Kriffing droids!" Kett stopped behind a tree and took cover to return fire. The twins were well ahead of him now, sniping the droids as they sidestepped trees in rank.

Kett leaned around the right of the tree, blaster held straight out, and blasted indiscriminately in the droids' direction. The cool night air seemed to rip and tear at his dry throat as he gasped for each breath. His scalp tingled with the raw rush of adrenaline as bolts flew around him. "Come get some!" Kett roared, throwing all his fear into one incomprehensible scream.

"Kett!" Nia called over the din. "Come on!"

Kett dashed away toward them, following as they turned at times to fire back at the droids. One of the Draxon riflemen fell, shot in the back. His squadmate stopped to render aid, but Lieutenant Fet jerked the man up by his collar. "Run, there's no time to take him!"

"You dirty bastard!" the injured man screamed through the pain. "Don't leave me!" His buddy shook off the lieutenant's hand, and proceeded to drag his wounded comrade over the rocky ground. One droid must have seen them, and fired a volley of blaster bolts into the pair. They were quickly killed, fallen side by side in a tragic scene.

Taela kneeled behind a tree, screaming uncontrollably as she realized the fate of her betrothed. Nia picked her up, out of breath. "We need to move! There will be time to cry later!" But the woman would not budge. Her fate had been sealed already. Nia took the woman's blaster rifle and carried it with her, leaving Taela in a sobbing heap. "Fine, die here!" Nia screamed in frustration.

The twins seemed to fare slightly better, though obviously panicked by the horde of droids they faced. They gathered up slugthrower shells one by one to reload later, a habit not easily forgotten even in the heat of battle. Kett ran past them as they hastily reloaded and fired round after round into the droids. "Keep it up!" Kett encouraged between gasps.

"There's too many!" one of them said. "I can't keep up!"

"We need to go!" Kett heard the other say. Soon, the thump of their boots fell in behind him. Kett watched with horror as blaster bolts screamed past him, slamming into trees around Nia and Lieutenant Fet. Then the last rifleman fell with a scream, tripping over a stump and spilling face-first into a thorn bush. Nia rushed up behind the man and helped pull him away; even in the somewhat dim light, Kett could see her struggle to keep him moving.

He ran towards the two, hoping to help; he could hear the rifleman cursing between breaths, he could see blood streaming down the man's face. A massive thorn had torn through the man's forehead, another through his scalp. He was lucky to have both eyes intact. But blaster bolts still slammed all around them. Kett took up one of the man's shoulders' while Nia took the other. They hobbled together to a tree and took cover.

"How does he look?" Kett asked.

"Bacta won't fix it," Nia explained. "It will have to be stitched. Cover us while I bandage him!"

Kett turned and fired around the tree, exposing as little of himself as possible. The lieutenant and the twins paused momentarily to fire, still trying vainly to offer Taela some protection from the droids that marched closer to her position every moment. Kett could not see the woman well, but she was standing. He fired repeatedly at the droids to the left of her, as the lieutenant fired to the right. Greb and Cordin were still shooting as fast as they could aim, even as droid sharpshooters landed blaster bolts closer and closer to them.

Taela, having realized her situation, suddenly burst forward toward the rest. "Cover her!" the lieutenant yelled. She made it safely to the next tree, and then another. Kett turned back a moment, to see that Nia had sliced the sleeves of her poncho to wrap the injured man's head. The man still gasped and moaned in pain, seemingly unaware of the fight around him.

Kett turned back to fire, as Taela made yet another safe dash towards them. "Come on!" one of the twins yelled. The droids' ranks were thinning a bit, as their ineffective tactical programming cost them droid after droid. There were still at least two dozen, though, and the gunship was bound to be close behind.

Kett winced instinctively as a flash blinded him and his blaster flew from his right hand. He withdrew the hand, now numb, and leaned back against the tree. Suddenly, a searing pain tore through his arm. "Aaargh!" Kett grabbed the injured hand, now dripping blood. He looked down; still four fingers and a thumb. They still moved. But they were badly burned and pocked with deep punctures. The blaster on the ground told the tale – a droid's bolt had slammed into the handguard, and smattered his fingers with plasma and hot metal.

Nia noticed immediately, and turned from the rifleman to tend to Kett's wound. "Karabast, that looks bad," she muttered. Nia pulled what was left of her poncho from her shoulders and shredded it with her vibroblade. "Damn thing just got in my way anyhow," she consoled herself.

"We need to get moving!" Lieutenant Fet called out. He was right.

Kett helped Nia wrap the ribbons around his hand and she tied them off. He grabbed his blaster, still too hot to fire, and holstered it. "Gimme that rifle," he said, pointing to the blaster slung over Nia's shoulder. He couldn't hold a blaster pistol anymore, but a rifle would let him use both hands. As Kett took the weapon and turned to fire again, he saw Taela lying face-down on the ground. Some droid had shot the helpless woman in the back.

"Kriff!" Kett cursed again. He switched the blaster to full auto, and fired in short bursts at the approaching enemies. A droid fell to one of his shots. "Haha, have some of this!" Kett screamed in anger. He saw something move nearby, something wrong. One of the twins, Cordin, was lying on the ground. Greb knelt beside him, doing something. Trying to bandage his brother. Cordin had been hit by a sharpshooter's bolt.

Time slowed to a crawl. Kett lowered his rifle a bit, as enemy bolts streaked by. He heard the strange voice once more: "Death is not your master."

Kett shook it off, convinced that he was simply deluded by the stress of combat. But Cordin needed help, fast. Lieutenant Fet hobbled back to another bit of cover, and Nia carried the injured Draxon further in retreat as well. Kett couldn't leave those boys though. They had fought too bravely. He took a deep breath, and let go.

He snapped his rifle up and aimed for one droid, blasting its torso to pieces. Another took aim for Kett, but he shot first. Kett walked deliberately toward the fallen brother, shooting methodically at target after target. A trio of droids fell to one well-aimed volley of automatic fire, and Kett fired on one more before shouldering the blaster and stopping to help the twins. Greb looked up at him, distraught; in the moonlight, Kett saw tears streaming down the boy's face. Cordin had been shot in the chest, and the injury looked bad. Fatal, even.

"I need you to calm down," Kett said steadily, "And do as I say. Okay? Now, I want you to pick him up under here, and I'll get the other shoulder. We're going to take him with us."

"Okay," Greb answered between ragged sobs. "Come on, Cordin! You've got to make it!" he pleaded with his brother. Cordin nodded weakly, in obvious shock.

They picked the fallen boy up together, and began trudging up the hill. "Don't worry about the droids," Kett assured the two. "We're getting out of this together, alright? Now, see that boulder? We're going to make it up there and rest a minute." A blaster bolt slammed into the dirt at Kett's feet, but he found himself strangely unperturbed. The world still swam around him, as he heard the voice again.

"Death comes to all, but it is not your master."

That truth seemed to hit heavy suddenly, as Kett fully realized its meaning. He might die out here in the forest, but he could choose how he died. Would he die in a panic, dashing between trees in a mad rush for survival? Would he go down in a blaze of glory, firing to the last breath? Or would he die here, trudging up a hill, carrying a dying boy and consoling his brother? It was Kett's choice, and he rather liked the idea. He was not the victim of death; death was an inevitability that he could choose to meet however he preferred.

They made it up the hill, and Kett watched on as the brothers exchanged a final goodbye. He felt like the spectator to a tragic play, as Cordin slipped into whatever afterlife or emptiness awaited him. Cordin closed his eyes one last time, only one of billions dead in the conflict. Greb took his brother's rifle and ammunition, and slung them over his own shoulders. "Let's go," Greb said with finality. There was no time to grieve, only time to flee.

With a few parting shots, the remaining Draxon raiders retreated over the hill and deep into the woods, where the droids gave up chase. They stopped only to rest for a drink from their canteens. Nia quietly helped Tom-Lor, the rifleman she had pulled from a thornbush. Lieutenant Fet nursed his wound a few meters off, clearly ashamed of their defeat. Kett and Greb sat silently beside one another, each coming to grasp with the wretched reality war had shown them.

Kett heard the voice again, disembodied yet so clear. "You fought honorably. Now, gather up those who remain and carry on; there is much to be done." Kett looked over at the others, who seemed unaffected. They must not have heard the voice.

Indeed, a great force was working on their behalf, a force greater than any Kett had imagined. And it called for him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Calling**

The next morning, Kett awoke to a dull pain throbbing in – well, everywhere. His feet were still hot from running last night, and a rock stuck in his back where he must have collapsed in exhaustion. Kett took his coat off, and realized how near to death he had been. It had not been a rock in his back. A scorched streak on his jacket showed clearly where a blaster bolt had ripped across beneath his shoulders. Another beneath his left arm bore similar testimony.

Kett looked around, seeing the others huddled about a small fire. Judging by the clean hole in its carcass, Kett could tell that the animal Lieutenant Fet rotated on a makeshift spit had been shot with Greb's slugthrower. Kett stood and walked up behind them, and saw Tom-Lor lying off to the side, writhing and moaning.

"What's wrong with him?" Kett pried drily.

"Fever. His wounds are infected." Nia sounded despondent. "Probably won't live through the day."

Kett turned to Greb. "How you holding up?"

"I'm still here," the boy responded with a note of regret.

"Yeah," Kett agreed. "You sure are. So, Lieutenant – what happened?"

"It was a blasted ambush. They knew we would be there, somehow. First squad was captured right after they blew the charger. Second squad was killed off by that gunship, and reserve squad… Well, Tom-Lor, Cretos, and Goran were the last ones left. We stood no chance," Fet admitted. "At this point, I don't know what to do. There's not enough food to provide for everyone left, and the droids are out looking for us now."

"We'll have to scatter," Nia said. "It's the only option. Otherwise, we all die out here."

Suddenly, Kett felt tired. The ground began to swell and recede like waves on an ocean, and the trees began to spin around him. He closed his eyes for a second, and opened them to a whole new world. A desert plain appeared before him, rocky and dry and dusty. And there, straight ahead, was a little hovel buried between two boulders lying in the wide open.

A man stood outside it, beckoning Kett inside. "Come in, let us have a drink! It is dry out here, and you look like you could use one."

Kett walked up to the hut, confused. What had happened? What was going on?

"Have a seat," the man said as he poured a red juice into two glasses. "We have quite a bit to discuss."

That voice was familiar in some way, but Kett couldn't put his finger on it. He couldn't remember where he came from, either. He felt strange.

"Welcome to my home," Kett's host said graciously. "It's bare, basic, but comfortable. Just to my liking, though I never would have thought so in my youth. This is my little piece of the afterlife."

Kett was no less confused. "Afterlife? What, am I dead or something? Is that why I can't remember anything?"

"Not at all, my friend. You aren't dead, although by your standards I have been dead for quite some time. What many know, and few believe, is that there truly is an 'afterlife'. Really, it's just the continued existence of one's consciousness. I've forgotten my manners - my name is Jacen. We've spoken before, on different terms, although you won't remember immediately."

"Mine is Kett Wilson," Kett said politely. "But I'm not so sure about this bizarre afterlife thing you just explained."

"No matter!" Jacen assured him. "As long as you believe me, I don't mind if you think I'm just a spot of bad indigestion. The important thing is to help you come to terms with your new life. You see, you're not really Kett Wilson anymore. Your new name is Kett Draxon, is it not?"

"I suppose," Kett answered. "It doesn't matter much what you call me, anyways."

"No, it doesn't," Jacen conceded. "What matters is who you believe you are. Whether you've accepted your new identity, or not. So it does matter what you call yourself, after all."

"Fine," Kett said, a bit perturbed. "What did you want to talk about?"

"First, a bit of background," Jacen began. "I 'died' several hundreds of years ago. I was born the son of the thirty-fourth Draxonus. During my time in the physical realm, I studied philosophy and expanded my mind. Expanded it enough that, upon death, I summoned not only the ability to continue thought, but accepted and embraced the preservation of my physical form. In some sense, at any rate.

"This, what you see around us, is all in my imagination. This is the home I willed into being. I carved out my own little piece of existence, right here, and built it from the ground up. It's an entire planet, really, and I will probably get to exploring it later. That's another matter, and I imagine you feel pressed for time.

"We have noticed a dangerous development in the physical world that threatens to undermine our progress here. The Force is the essence of reality, and must be balanced. It has many sides, many facets, such as the Light Side and the Dark Side. At any given time, the Force will tend to one or the other, and it is the goal of all living beings to re-balance it. A very dark being has taken hold of the galaxy and swayed it heavily toward the dark side. It is already apparent that much must be done to re-balance the Force.

"Unfortunately for my sentiment, the Clan Draxon is rather well finished. At least, the clan I once knew; by six generations ago, the Draxons had already emasculated themselves in preference of creature comforts and political acceptance. The days of Sarodon's wild men have come to a close, I fear."

Kett stared, dumbfounded. "What did I drink?" he asked himself.

"You have had quite a bit of water lately. Rest assured, everything you see and all I say are indeed true and existent." Jacen spoke with a lighthearted air, only undermining any trust Kett might have held in Jacen's words. "Oh, well. We'll speak again soon, and I'm sure you'll be ready to take me seriously then – and I can explain why you are important to my plan. Until that time comes, it's been a pleasure." Jacen smiled smugly and waved his hand with lofty authority, and Kett suddenly opened his eyes to Nia leaning over him, saying something.

He was lying on the ground, and his head hurt. His ears rang with a sharp tone, and Kett felt dizzy. He couldn't tell what Nia was saying, but he could remember Jacen. And something from earlier, a conversation. Her lips moved slowly, but her veins bulged and her wide eyes stared into his. Nia was screaming at him.

Dirt sprayed over Kett's face from beside him as Nia fell flat onto his prostrate body. Just that instant, Kett realized what had happened. They were under attack again. He struggled out from under Nia, who rolled to the side and fired her blaster over his face toward an enemy he couldn't see. Kett lifted the old service blaster from his side and turned to face a line of droids mere meters away. With the deft grace of a match shooter, Kett swung his blaster's muzzle from droid to droid, firing with mad speed.

"Kett!" The voice echoed through a din in Kett's head. "Come on!"

Kett looked at Nia, whose face belied her uncontrolled panic. He pointed to his ear and shook his head. Kett couldn't hear her. But he could still blast droids, which Kett turned to do. His blaster zipped from target to target as adrenalin took hold, dealing destruction to each one a shot at a time. A new energy surged through his body, stronger than any he'd ever known. He could feel every droid, every tree, and rock around him, with startling awareness.

All was still strangely quiet as he dashed from cover to cover. A tree trunk split wide open just ahead of him, the blast rocking his chest and pelting him with splinters of wood. Kett fell behind cover and found a large one lodged in his left shoulder. With a grimace, Kett closed his eyes and yanked it out. Strangely, he felt no pain. Kett looked down again, groping at his chest and abdomen, now concerned that he might be mortally wounded yet unable to feel it. He saw no other injury, though.

Greb was yelling at him about something. Kett turned to follow Greb's line of sight, and saw a battle droid just behind himself. In a split second, Kett pulled his blaster up again – but before he could fire, the droid fell to the ground with a thud. Only a smoking hole in its cranium was left where vital circuitry had been before. Kett looked back at Greb and waved his thanks.

Kett's hearing slowly returned. The snaps and sizzles of passing blaster bolts told Kett just how close to death he sat. But he couldn't stop moving. The droids knew where he was, and they'd corner him any moment now. They had to retreat, but where? The droids might have laid a trap to their rear, intending to catch the small group. To the side, then. They would have to retreat along a line parallel to the enemy line, or risk running into a mop-up squad.

Kett stood and wheeled around, shooting violently from behind the rock he'd taken cover by. "Follow me!" Kett shouted at the top of his lungs as he dashed to another nearby boulder. Kett looked back, and saw Greb looking to follow. "Come on!" Kett urged, before blasting another battle droid.

Then the droids came from behind. This was very bad. They opened fire on the rest of the group, wounding Greb and Nia. Kett felt another surge of energy at this new threat, and launched into action. He bounded over limbs and around bushes, blasting wildly. There were two to the left – he shot them both on the move. Another to the right, and three in front. Kett blasted one more, and his blaster stopped.

He needed a fresh blaster pack, but his pockets were empty. The two he'd had were now missing, and now Kett stood alone with hostile droids all around. He thought quickly, and tossed his blaster to the two droids in front of him. "Catch!"

"Wait, what?" one of them said in disbelief. Its comrade reached for the airborne weapon, temporarily distracting both of them. Kett rushed over to a fallen droid as they fumbled over his empty blaster, and salvaged the broken droid's E-5. Kett pulled it up quickly, and blasted the two away. The last droid, still a few meters away, aimed its blaster at the wounded Tom-Lor and fired.

"Kriffing rust-bucket!" Kett roared, pouring bolt after bolt into the murderous machine. It teetered and collapsed backward in a smoking heap under a withering volley from Kett's stolen blaster. Kett looked around again, and saw Nia and Greb both leaned up against tree trunks. Where was Lieutenant Fet? Kett rushed to Nia, only a few meters away. "How bad is it?"

"I'll live," Nia gasped. "It hurts like hell!" No wonder – she'd been shot in the upper right thigh, and would have a hard time walking, let alone running.

"Where's Fet?"

"I don't know. He moved up just before I was shot."

Kett looked around. Greb was already firing back again with determination. Kett opened with a volley on the line of droids still marching toward them, and dashed over to Greb's location. "Where did the lieutenant go?" Kett asked.

"Right there," Greb said, pointing to a body lying in a gully several meters away. "He tried to surrender or something. They didn't shoot him, so I did."

Kett smiled. "Good shooting! Now, can you run?"

"Sure," Greb replied. Greb bore blaster bolt scorches on his scalp and hand, but nothing serious.

"Great. We have to get out of here. On my mark, we'll head across this ridge, away from the droids. Once we get going, don't turn back. Just run like fire, okay?" Kett patted Greb's shoulder and ran back to Nia. She was clearly hurt worse than Greb had been; Nia held her right arm tight to her chest and winced with pain. "Hey!" Kett said as he knelt beside her. "Sure you're okay?"

"I don't know," she said. "It hurts! I can't move my hand."

"Okay, okay," Kett assured her. "We're about to move and I need you on your feet. We have to go across this ridge to escape," he said, pointing the way. "Can you make it?"

"Maybe," she replied shakily.

Kett ducked as a blaster bolt crashed beside him. He looked into Nia's pain-filled eyes with pity. "Hey, we'll make it through this." Kett stroked her cheek gently to comfort her, and noticed a streak of red where his shaking hand had been. It was blood. His own blood. Kett looked down at his shoulder again, where a red stain leeched through his shirt. "Blast it. I don't have time for this." Kett stood and fired once more around the tree. "Let's move!" he yelled.

Greb took off first, scampering away ahead of Kett and Nia. Together, the three dashed across the woody ridge and deeper into the forest. No thought of the remaining Draxon clan entered any of their minds as they tripped across vines and trudged past tree after tree. They just had to keep moving, and get away from the droids.

As Kett and Nia struggled together over the terrain, Kett heard Jacen's strange disembodied voice in his ears once again. "There is a cave to your right, along the hill. Look for a small pile of boulders." Kett looked down, unsure of whether the voice was real or another hallucination. But as surely as he'd heard the voice, there was a small outcropping down the steep hill. A raging river below presented a serious risk should any of them fall.

"Greb! Get back here!" Kett called out. "Follow me!" He helped Nia to a tree for cover, as the droids continued their pursuit. "Think you can make it down there?" She eyed the steep grade warily, but nodded with gritted teeth. It wasn't going to be easy.

Greb rushed back, taking wild shots through the brush. "What now?" he inquired between heaving breaths.

"A cave, I think," Kett explained. Kett pointed to the rocks below. "See those stones? It's a long shot, but we're running out of options. Can you get her down there?"

"Sure," Greb answered. Greb took Nia under the shoulder and began the precarious trip downhill, both grasping at roots and bushes to help balance themselves. As they descended, Kett unleashed his new power on the battle droids as they wound their way through the woods.

"I've given you powers you've never experienced before," Jacen's voice explained. "These powers you already have, but have not learned to harness yet. I can teach you to use them without my help, to use your power to change the galaxy for the better."

Kett smirked as he blasted another droid. There were only a handful left now, but reinforcements wouldn't be far behind. "Well," Kett announced to the open air, "It sure is handy right now." Maybe that was only a voice in his head, but maybe it was an ancient spirit after all. Kett had heard some strange legends, but he'd heard quite a bit about battle fatigue too. Only, he hadn't been fighting for very long.

Without further thought, Kett turned to look down the slope to see Greb helping Nia into the cave's entrance. Kett waved down to the boy, who returned his wave with a salute. It was time to go. Kett stepped off the ledge and slid down on his back for a few meters, slowing himself with his heels and elbows. He caught a bush with his right arm, and held on tight. Kett turned onto his stomach and crawled sideways a meter to get closer to the cave, and began to ease down once more. Ten meters, five more, and there he stood at the entrance.

"Your destiny awaits you," Jacen crooned as Kett peered inside the pitch-black cave. "Have no fear; a thousand have gone before you, and ten thousand will follow in your footsteps."

"If this is my destiny," Kett muttered into the darkness, "I feel bad for the ten thousand."

Greb and Nia stood just inside, waiting. "What do we do now?" Greb asked.

"We go into the cave and hide," Kett answered. "We definitely won't survive out there. Anybody got a light?"

Greb and Noa shook their heads – they seemed out of luck. With droids outside and unseen dangers inside, the trio had nowhere to go. Kett closed his eyes and concentrated on their situation. At the mouth of the cave, scanners could easily detect the group. Further down, they stood a chance against superior Separatist technology and wouldn't be worth pursuing anyway.

"What is that?" Greb noted with awe, shattering Kett's thoughts. Kett opened his eyes to the colorful glow of fungi on the rock walls, deep blue with flashing bits of yellow. They made a stripe along the ceiling, dimly lighting the space inside. It all seemed strangely convenient, but Kett had no time to ponder.

"It's light, so let's go." Kett took Greb's place helping Nia, and together they trudged through the natural tunnel, deeper and deeper.

"What happens when the light goes out?" Nia asked as they rounded a corner. "Can we find our way out?"

"I don't think we'll have to," Kett answered. "Something tells me things are only going to get more interesting from here." He could feel a sense of harmony with the ground around him, with all the little plants and bugs crawling about. Perhaps Jacen was no hallucination at all – maybe there was allot more to the galaxy than Kett had thought. Or maybe Kett had simply gone insane. He could only wonder.

The three continued their path around rocks and stalagmites, over sharp crystalline shards and through stagnant puddles. The mysterious cave creatures retreated to their dens, dozens of dado spiders and grubfish peeking out at the humans interrupting their daily life with seeming curiosity. Kett could not see any of them, but he could feel them all in a way he'd never known before.

He could sense Nia's sorrow behind her brave facade, and Greb's similar grief at the loss of his twin. Kett reminded himself that the hope he held for his family would likely be crushed just the same. It was apparent that the three were the only family any of them had, at least for the time being. Kett resolved to take care of both as such, even as he wondered how they would survive or where even to find clean water.

Kett's reverie was soon shattered by a single word. "Welcome." Jacen's voice echoed through the chambers, startling Nia and Greb and stopping them in their tracks. They looked at Kett with fear, but were surprised to see him roll his eyes.

"I dunno who this guy is," Kett explained quickly, "But let's just do what he says, okay? I don't want to make him upset."

"Is that how you knew about the cave?" Greb asked with astonishment.

"Yes, I told him," Jacen answered on Kett's behalf. "Don't be afraid; simply open your minds to a greater world, and understand the things you will now experience are for your benefit."

With those words, the cave was plunged into utter darkness. "Kett," Nia said anxiously, "What's going on?"

"I wish I knew," Kett answered. Just as the last word left his mouth, the three saw the cave transform into an empty city street, not unlike the pedestrian highways of Centar City. It was ghastly quiet – no birds sang, no breeze blew. No busy crowds pushed and shoved against them. Kett, Nia, and Greb all looked about in amazed suspense.

"Creepy," Nia finally said aloud. Nia and Greb looked at Kett with wide eyes, then down at their own bodies. Neither had so much as a scratch on them, but Kett seemed grievously wounded. Blood still dribbled where the splinter had pierced his shoulder before, and Kett bore the wounds of them both now: a scorched, bloody patch on his right leg, and burns on his face and hands.

Kett bent over with pain, struggling to maintain his composure. Before they could say another word, though, Jacen materialized before them. "Kett Draxon, is that not your name? Are you not a Draxon by calling?"

Kett gritted his teeth and replied, "You yourself said the Draxon clan is finished. What's your point?"

"Come now, let's be a little more cordial," Jacen admonished. "But indeed, what you say is true, from my point of view."

"Kriffing good for you," Kett grunted.

"What are you doing to him?" Nia asked desperately.

"He is becoming familiar with the burden of leadership," Jacen answered. "Your wounds are not your own, not really. They are his to carry, his to care for, and still he has himself to mind. A lesson all three of you would be wise to remember," Jacen advised.

Greb looked at Nia with confidence, then turned to Jacen. "I can carry my share," Greb announced.

"So can I," Nia agreed. "Our wounds are our own, not Kett's."

Jacen smiled. "Ah, I see you are a teachable bunch, after all." Jacen waved his hand surreptitiously, and Kett's wounds all disappeared. Only the rips and burns in his clothing remained. "I suppose you have all learned well enough through this pain," he.

"What is this all about?" Kett asked as he picked himself up, still reeling. "What's your angle? Why are we here, instead of the cave?"

Jacen laughed. "Why, you're still in the cave. But your minds are here, and that alone is what matters. The mind, after all, is our very existence! Now, my angle you already know, young one. The Force must be balanced, and I want your help to ensure that balance. You three are sufficient for the task at hand, I think."

"What task?" Nia asked.

Jacen sighed. "I suppose I must begin once more. You three have all heard of the Jedi, no doubt?" They nodded their agreement. "The Jedi practice communion with and use of the Light Side of the Force. They worship the light, in fact. Their use of the Light Side gives them a special advantage over other beings, which explains the entire existence of the Jedi Order now," Jacen said with a note of disgust.

"The Jedi have ruled long enough. Instead of the Jedi correcting their ways, and embracing the Force itself, they have carried on with their corrupt view for centuries and left the Force out of balance. But the Sith, worshipers of the Dark Side and perennial enemies of the Jedi, are even worse in their pursuit to subjugate. Now the Sith stand poised to take the reins of power in the galaxy, leaving us all worse off."

"The Sith?" Kett asked. "I was told they were no more than an old legend."

"Oh, no," Jacen replied. "Not at all. The Sith are not only real, but they've seized control of the galaxy. The Force must be balanced, and the galaxy will need beings who are willing to make the necessary sacrifices. Each of you will be vital to this struggle."

Greb rolled his eyes. "What kind of trick is this, old man? What are you, some kind of spirit or god?"

"No, I am only an old man, as you say," Jacen replied with resignation. "I can do nothing more than mentor each of you. It is your choice whether to help me or not."

"What are we supposed to do?" Kett asked. "After all, isn't this Jedi and Sith stuff a little out of our league?"

Jacen waved his hand with nonchalance, and the scene about them changed from an empty cityscape to a hilltop, set above a raging battle. "Tell me, what do you see?"

The three looked down on the struggle quietly, for a moment. Vast armies of infantry charged forward into battle as bombers swooped in low, dropping their payloads from the hazy blood-red sky. Heavy machines clunked about, blasting away with laser cannons and rockets. The din of battle seemed to vibrate through the dry and sandy ground beneath their feet.

"It's a battle," Nia said flatly. "A pretty big one."

"Yes, but look closer. Who is fighting?" Jacen prodded.

The glow of lightsabers clashing on the front line could be seen, where dozens of knights crossed their tinted blades against each other and against enemy troopers and droids. "They look like Jedi and Sith," Kett said. Greb and Nia turned to listen as he explained. "This looks like a holo from one of my history texts years ago."

"Who fought here, and why?" Jacen asked as they observed the struggle.

"The Republic - they fought against the Sith Empire in the Great Hyperspace War. If this is Korriban, then this must be the great battle fought to defeat the Sith on their home world."

"Indeed," Jacen said with satisfaction. "So, who do you see fighting behind the Jedi, and who fights behind the Sith?"

Greb looked up at Jacen cautiously as he answered, "They look like regular troopers to me."

Jacen smiled. "Then you see my point; these Jedi and these Sith would be nothing without their armies to back them. This battle here, a struggle in the Force, is fought by people much like yourselves, even with little awareness of the nature of the Force."

With another wave of his hand, Jacen returned the group to the abandoned city street where they stood before. "Now, let me warn you. The galaxy has changed much since any of you last watched a holocast. Your friends will be enemies, and your enemies may no longer be so. Watch your step and tread carefully – the devil comes dressed in white."

As those final words left Jacen's mouth, Kett, Nia, and Greb returned to the darkness of the cave on Sarodon.

"That was wild," Nia said as they regained their bearings. "Kett, I don't know what you've got us into, but something tells me that's not the last time we're gonna see that guy."

"He's persistent," Kett noted aloud. "So, what do we do now?" Kett asked. The glowing fungi had faded away, leaving the three stranded in darkness.

"I guess we can wait until the light comes back, and make our way out again," Greb suggested.

"I don't like the idea of just sitting here," Kett complained. "Who knows what kind of creatures might live in this cave?" Kett said with a shudder. The cool, damp air lent a deathly vibe to the cave, and cold drops of water falling from stalactites above smattered their heads and shoulders.

"I don't think we have much choice," Nia said.

They didn't. All three sat in silence, waiting. Kett hoped that some spider would not come crawling up his leg, or worse, drop on his head. It was ironic, he noted, that the strange visions had not startled him nearly as much as a harmless arachnid would. Kett then realized, in a brief moment of clarity, that his shoulder no longer bled.

Excited, Kett ran his right hand up under his shirt and over the wound – but there was no wound at all. He could feel the crust of blood and rip in his shirt, but not a bit of pain where the open gash had been. His wounds truly had been healed, and he imagined that Nia and Greb's wounds must have healed as well.

With a warm smile, Kett let his need for rest take over once again, and drifted into sleep without further thought for spiders, the Force, or blood.

…

Kett felt the ground shake beneath him. It was dark; Kett knew he was asleep. A deep moan alerted him, and Kett slowly and deliberately awoke from his slumber. The deep moan gradually morphed into a human voice. Greb's voice. That shaking? It was Greb's hand on his shoulder. Something was going on.

An attack?

Kett jumped up quickly, his heart pounding. "What? Where?" Another hand reached out to still him, bathed in a gentle green glow.

"Kett, the light's back," Nia replied gently, grasping his left shoulder. "We should start moving if we're going to get out of this cave.

Oh. Kett remembered everything now, the cave, the vision. "Oh, alright. Do we have everything?" Kett said as he stooped to retrieve his E-5 from the cavern floor.

"Yeah, we took inventory while you slept," Greb informed him. "Didn't want to wake you up, but we took a tally between the two of us. I have about twenty rounds left for my rifle and enough food for two days."

"I've got this blaster pistol and a power cell," Nia said, "And a canteen for water, if we can find another spring."

Kett searched his pockets with his free hand, patting each one down to check for stray contents. "I'm empty," Kett reported. "And there's no telling how long this blaster will last. We need a plan."

"There should be another town nearby," Nia said as they wandered through the dimly lit tunnels once more. "Once we get out of here, we can head that way. My father charted out allot of this territory, and I remember helping him to draft the maps."

"You didn't just use a holomap?" Kett asked, incredulous.

"We don't have power sources in the wilderness," Greb explained. "A holo would be useless when its charge went dry, so we kept physical records of important things like maps and stories."

"Huh." Kett wasn't impressed. Physical records were easily lost or destroyed, and difficult to duplicate. Even their use – such as reading a map, for instance – could be a challenge. "Why not just come out of the forest, and live like normal people?"

"The forest is our home," Nia said. "We have lived in the wild for hundreds of years, ever since the first colony ships arrived. We survived just fine without holograms and luxury flats for long enough; why integrate with a society of foreigners just to get something we don't need?"

"But Sarodon is your home, my home. We're all native," Kett countered. "Who's foreign?"

"I'd say that since my grandfathers colonized the planet, that makes me the native," Greb argued. "Most people living in the towns and cities, like yourself, are just immigrants coming to make a profit from our home."

"I don't know about that," Kett said. "Times change. There are allot more of us than there are of you."

"Us? You? I thought you were a Draxon," Nia said, notes of bitter rejection in her voice. "What about –"

"Look," Kett cut her off, "I'm in this to save my own neck and find my family. I don't give a damn for the Draxon clan any more than I did a week ago, and this Jacen character is only one more obstacle in my way. I'm really sorry about what happened, but that's not my fault, and it doesn't change anything."

"What about us, then?" Nia asked desperately. "Don't you care at all? We took you in and cared for you, and now you're just going to leave us?"

Kett stopped and turned to face the others, his face colder than the shimmering green walls that surrounded them. "Your dad didn't give me much of a choice, Nia. I could join him, or your clan would just leave my body to feed the wolves. Then he hatched that lunatic plan to attack the droids with a bunch of untrained woodsmen, and I had to go along with it!"

"Don't talk about my father that way!" Nia said, stiffening with anger.

Kett took a step toward her, thrusting a finger in Greb's direction. "What about Cordin? Your father's bright ideas got Greb's brother killed, and everyone else killed too! It was stupid!"

Greb lowered his eyes with grief at the mention of his deceased twin, but Nia launched into an angry rampage. "I'll kill you!" she roared, her rage-filled voice bouncing off the walls and echoing through the empty halls. As Nia raised a fist to strike him, the green glow dimmed down until they could no longer see one another. With a snarl, Nia sat down on the floor.

Kett joined her, glad that the darkness had effectively deterred her attack. He was in no mood to kill somebody he'd been fighting to keep alive only – well, he didn't know how long ago anymore. It didn't matter. Kett knew how it had to be if they were going to make it through together. "Alright," Kett announced through the tense silence, "Here's how it is.

"I'm the only one of the three of us who has somewhere to go now, so I'm going to be in charge from today on. Either of you can leave if you want, but just keep in mind that those droids are still walking the woods and you'll have nobody to cover your ass. I don't care how it is, but I'm going to make it home no matter what happens."

"What about the clan?" Greb asked quietly.

Kett thought for a moment. There was only one good answer. "I'm Kett Draxon. If I'm going to take charge, I'll take the title too. I suppose that makes me Draxonus, then."

"Over my dead body!" Nia protested. "That was my father's title, and I am heir to the eldership!"

"If that's how you like it, fine," Kett replied with determination. "If you aren't going to cooperate or leave peacefully, I can take you on. This is my clan now, and I make the calls."

"Oh, you think," Nia said, tension building. "I could whoop you easily."

"Think your bruises have healed from the last time you 'whooped' me?" Kett taunted. "Don't even try. Like I said, I'm going home with or without you. Don't get in my way, or you won't have much time to regret it." Kett's words startled even himself. He hadn't known he had such a dark side.

"What about your own bruises, cowboy? You haven't seen me fight yet," Nia replied.

"Guys, can we kick it down a notch?" Greb asked from his seat against a stubby stalagmite. "I don't think it matters who's in charge anymore. I just want to get out of this alive, and it won't do any of us any good if you two beat each other to death."

Kett crouched and ran his palms over the rocky floor, searching for a dry place to sit. "If you wanna call yourself Draxonus, fine. See if I care. But I still call the shots, like it or not."

Nia held her tongue for a moment, thinking on her options. What use was it, fighting over the title of her dead father anyways? It was not as if she had a clan to lead. "If you're in charge anyways, then the Draxonus name means nothing in my possession. I would rather sacrifice my birthright than reduce the name to some kind of formality."

"Then we're getting somewhere," Kett said as he sat back against the cave wall. "Let's call a truce. Deal?"

"Fine," Nia bit back. "I agree to your leadership as Draxonus. Under protest."

"I submit to your leadership as Draxonus," Greb echoed.

"Thank you," Kett said with a victorious sigh. His blood pressure still soared, but disaster had been averted, if only for the time being. As the three began to relax again, the dim green glow returned. "Convenient," Kett said aloud. "Let's get moving again."

The group took to their feet once more, and followed the lighted strips of fungus to the mouth around bends and through forks. After several minutes of trudging along, they stood once more at the mouth of the cave. Only, Kett could see stars overhead. Candis and Capos shone down on a great grassy meadow lying just beyond the cave's exit.

"This doesn't make sense," Kett said. "This cave was in the forest. How did we wind up in the grasslands?"

Nia and Greb joined him, similarly taken aback. Greb stepped outside, studying the sky. "Guys, you're not going to believe this."

"What?" Nia asked.

"These stars only appear in the southern hemisphere. See the Orbis Cluster? There's the Hilt of Goredon, and that's the south pole!"

"Wait," Kett said cautiously. "Are you saying we walked halfway across the planet through that cave? That's impossible."

Greb looked at him and shrugged. "Either that, or Sarodon turned upside-down. I don't know, but I'm not wrong. That's the Hilt of Goredon and you can't even see it from the northern hemisphere."

"Someday you have to tell me where you learned that, living in the woods all your life," Kett said with a hint of sarcasm.

"Sometimes we just happen to know something that comes in handy, whether it makes sense or not," Greb answered.

Kett turned back to face the cave. "Jacen! What's up with this?" No reply came, as Nia and Greb turned likewise. "Talking to caves now. What kind of insanity have I fallen to?" Kett wondered aloud. A gentle breeze tugged at his tunic, and the moons' light cast eerie double shadows on the ground beneath him. Kett couldn't help stopping to kick at the dirt, utterly incapable of comprehending the continual strange turns his life had taken in the past few days.

One thing he was sure of - Kett wasn't tired anymore. "We're moving out," he announced. "Greb, you pick the best two directions we could go."

Kett and Nia stood alone as Greb walked out by himself to choose two likely courses. Kett considered trying to apologize for his harsh tone. He hadn't meant to be so stubborn or authoritative. But his family was on the line, and Kett wasn't about to let them go either. Maybe his tone had been justified. Maybe that's how it had to be, being in charge. Still, did it have to hurt so much?

Greb returned with his report. "We can go that direction," Greb said, pointing to a gentle glow on the horizon. "It's about northeast of here. Probably a city. But it might be occupied. Over there," Greb pointed to a valley to their west, "Is probably the closest source of water. If we got started now, we could make it there before daybreak."

Kett crossed his arms and considered carefully. He had made his choice, but he had an idea. "Nia, what do you think?"

"Does it matter?" she snapped.

"Does to me," Kett said. "I want to hear your opinion." Perhaps giving Nia her say would be a small step toward reconciling their increasingly sharp differences.

"I'd rather fill up on water before venturing into a city that might well be occupied already. No sense in dying while I'm dehydrated," Nia said, patting the empty canteen on her belt.

Kett started off without a word, walking toward the valley, blaster in hand. Nia and Greb followed, matching Kett's path in single file through the shoulder-height golden grasses of the prairie. Little stalks slapped at Kett's face with each step, as though to push him back with whatever little force they could muster in the wind. Nothing would hold him back. He might be a Draxon now, but not even the Force itself could stop him from finding his family – let alone some absurd tribal tradition. Southern hemisphere or not, Kett would find a way home.

As they trudged on, Greb offered occasional course corrections based on the stars above until Kett learned the array of stars himself. In the tall grass, they could see no landmarks except the ones behind them, much less the valley they aimed to reach by sunrise.

Kett pondered on his family as they walked. His father, Kreados Wilson. His mother, Portana. His sister, Jera. They needed someone to help look after them. To help rebuild. He would make it there, no matter the cost. But what of Nia, or Greb? Questions better left unasked, Kett decided, until that time came. There were immediate problems at hand, and his compatriots' long-term fates were not numbered among them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Revelations**

Kett took a long draught from Nia's metal canteen as Greb surveyed the town before them through his rifle scope. "I see a few droids milling around the outskirts, but no vehicles or equipment. I think that's the top of a shuttle near the town center, but it's hard to tell."

From their vantage point about thirty meters above, the three could scout their destination well in advance – an invaluable advantage – while lying out of sight in the tall grass. "Are there civilians walking around?" Kett asked.

"I see a few," Greb said. "They aren't hiding in their homes, at least. That might give us a chance to sneak in."

Nia turned to Kett. "How are we going to sneak in there? We're covered in blood and blaster burns. They'll know we've been in a fight."

"I think you overestimate these droids, Nia. They're pretty easy to fool." Kett plucked at a little golden blade sprouting out of the dirt, still sparkling with the early morning dew.

"It's still not a good idea," she said.

"I think it's the only idea," Greb interrupted. "I mean, I don't like it either. But where else are we going to go out here? Back into the cave?"

Kett snapped the bit of grass from its root and held it up for inspection. "I ain't going back inside that cave for a million credits. We'll probably wind up on another planet or something. And I don't have time for that." Kett rolled the blade between his fingers, enjoying the dry, crackly feeling as it flaked apart and fell to the ground. How interesting; the leaf had been covered in dew, but was completely dry.

Nia twirled her lekku together behind her back. Twi'leks were very warm-blooded, as Kett recalled. He imagined that the morning sunlight must feel even better on her head-tails than it did on the back of his neck. Kett also recalled that Twi'leks used their head-tails for some sort of discreet sign language. If the night before were any indication, she was likely cursing him quietly with whatever vulgarities a Twi'lek could express that way.

"Alright," Kett decided, "Here's the plan. Greb, you're going to have to stay up here and provide covering fire if we need it. If this goes sideways, I want you to take out the sentry droids. We'll run into town and take the first speeder we see, then come back and pick you up and go from there. If this does actually work out, I'll find a speeder and make a run out this evening to grab you. If I'm not back by sundown, who knows."

"So I have to sit out here all day?" Greb complained.

"Only if my plan works," Kett said with a smile.

"I think I'd rather you get blasted," Greb said.

"Hey! He's dragging me along, numskull!" Nia protested. "You'd better hope this works!"

Greb shrugged.

"Alright, then, Nia – you're with me. We're going to cross around to the south side of town, that way the droids won't think to scan over here and see Greb," Kett instructed.

She followed him down the hillside, out of view of the town. "What about our escape route, 'General Tactical'? They'll expect us to retreat that way. Why not enter town on the north side instead?" Nia's voice carried a sharp edge.

It was a fair point. "Well, if they do chase us, we'll probably be outgunned anyway. Doesn't matter what direction they expect us to go; if they've got those swoop bikes we'll be in a world of hurt."

Kett continued walking, dodging field mice and watching for piker nests. Kett remembered stepping in a piker nest as a child – their venomous stings would have killed him, were it not for a quick trip to the local medical droid. He spent a week in bed and had never forgotten the incident. To that day, he had feared the little bugs.

The sun rose over the horizon as Kett and Nia made their way along a circuitous route around the town's outskirts, turning the Sarodon sky from its morning orange to a brilliant aquatic blue. The season in the grasslands was rather reversed from the forest scene they'd left; instead of the balmy autumn breeze, a stiff springtime wind whipped at Kett's tunic and trousers. The scenery was fantastic, the weather ideal. What a shame that the Confederacy should come and ruin this.

"So, Kett," Nia began, "Have you always been so self-centered?"

"I don't agree with the premise of your question," Kett said flatly. "You're assuming I'm self-centered to start with."

"Like it or not, it's the truth. You're an incredibly selfish being, even for a human."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kett asked indignantly. "What kind of selfish? If I was selfish, I'da shot you and Greb both and kept your food for myself."

Nia rolled her eyes. "That's stupid, and even _you_ know it. Didn't you ever think of going back for the women and children?"

"Probably all gone anyways," Kett argued. "Besides, that would have been impossible, and even _you_ know that," he finished, mocking her tone.

"Shut the hole in your face," Nia said. "You wouldn't have gone back for them if you could have."

Kett didn't have an answer for her. He knew she was right, and deep down, he felt a twinge of guilt. But hundreds of other children and women had died just the same, and he hadn't felt guilty for those people. All Kett could do was find his own family, and help protect them. They walked on without another word for several minutes.

Finally, Kett decided they'd gone far enough. "Alright, let's stop. I think we can start approaching from here." They turned toward the cluster of mud hovels and looked toward Greb's position. He was too far away to see now, just a tiny dent in the grass where they'd been. Kett looked back at their destination below. "This is where things get exciting."

At first, the droids did not notice them. Kett began to wonder whether the droids were even active, but any fleeting hope of entering unobserved was quickly dashed once one of the B-1's pointed excitedly at him and at Nia. Another droid rushed over with macrobinoculars. Kett waved at them, hoping to strike a friendly note.

By the time Kett and Nia came within earshot of the town, a small squad of droids had gathered to meet them. "Halt!" one called out. It had a green stripe on its head and torso; Kett assumed it was their leader. Kett and Nia stopped immediately, instinctively raising their hands. "Hold it right there, organic. You two, search them," it ordered.

Two of the droids walked forward, blasters tucked away. At least they didn't consider the two ragged beings much of a threat, Kett told himself. They performed a clumsy but effective pat-down, ignoring Nia's vibroknife. "They're clean!" one announced.

"Welcome to Ytopea," the leader said. "As new citizens of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, I am proud to serve you as protector against the vile clone armies of the Empire. Please enjoy your stay."

"Thanks," Kett said, genuinely surprised. With no further fuss made, the droids parted to allow Kett and Nia inside their perimeter. No mention of the blood on Kett's shoulder or sleeve, nor of the hole burnt in Nia's pants leg. It seemed strange, at best; perhaps a trap. But Kett could not imagine why the droids would want to trap them. He and Nia posed no serious danger to the Separatists, so why would they waste time trying to surround them? Why not blast them outright? And, _what_ was the Empire?

Nia put a voice to Kett's thoughts. "What in blazes was that?"

"I never expected a welcome committee from the invasion force," Kett quipped. "Maybe this is their idea of reaching out to their conquered subjects to quell any resistance."

"Likely," Nia agreed.

Kett felt in his thigh pocket for a small wallet and pulled it out. "Credits. Let's go find out what's cooking, shall we?" He set his course for a small plastered hut with a red aurebesh holosign flickering over the door. "Let's go to Big Al's."

Nia followed him through the wide, arching doorway at the building's front. Behind the wide, open bar sat a Zabrak man, flipping through news reports on his holo. There was nobody else inside – a perfect atmosphere for discussing whatever was the topic of the day. A fan in the wall kept the air from going stale, with no need for air conditioning on such a pleasantly warm morning.

As Kett took a seat, the Zabrak turned from his holo to welcome the new customers. "Well," he said, taken aback at their appearance, "You two look like you've been through hell twice and dipped in bantha shit! The name's Vor, by the way. What can I get you?"

"I'll take the house ale," Kett said.

"Ditto that," Nia echoed as she propped her elbow on the bar, stroking her lekku as if to brush the dirt and grime away.

Kett hadn't noticed his own odor after a few days in the wild, but it clashed violently with the combined scent of ales and liquors hanging in the pub. "Yeah, that's pretty much the way it's been," Kett said as the bartender poured their drinks. "What's in the news? I've been out of the loop a while."

Vor slid their foaming pitchers across the bar with a flourish, and launched into his report. "Well, son, Sarodon's gone to shit. Our parliament was dissolved by the droids first. Then the Republic came, only, they aren't the Republic anymore. Empire now. They say the Jedi tried to take over or something, and the clones took 'em out.

"Back to us, though – so the Separatist big-wigs just up and disappeared, just like that!" Vor said, flailing his arms dramatically. "Turned the droids off on the way out, right? Only, not all the droids. Whenever they sent the kill code, it must've been blocked by the solar flare. We had a big one, son. No comms planetwide for two days.

"So the Empire, they catch word of this, and send a bunch of clones and a whole battle group. You could see them all the way in space from here! But, ya know, the commander, he gets the bright idea to bombard the Seps from orbit. That lunatic, he razed half the Alsaken Peidmont! Killed like, everybody there!"

Kett blanched. His family's farm was in the Alsaken Piedmont. Deep inside. Even Nia, sitting beside him, noticed his changed countenance. Kett's pitcher began to quiver in his hand. His jaw clenched.

Vor carried on, unaware. "So this fellow – Trekin or Takrin or something like that – he lands his troops and just starts mopping droids up like spots on a floor. They made an even bigger mess than the Seps did. Ya know, if you ask me, that makes me feel awful sympathetic to the Seps. I mean, they're done for and all. But in a retrospective way, I feel bad for 'em. Imagine what it might be like on Separatist worlds way out on the Outer Rim, right?"

Kett heard Vor's words no more. He remembered Jacen's words. It couldn't be, though. Surely his family had survived, somehow! But they were right in the line of fire, and Jacen had suggested – strongly – that they were dead. For all Kett knew, Jacen was just a strange hallucination. Maybe this was all just a bad dream.

His blood pressure soared, and Kett felt as though he might burst apart at the seams. Vor would not shut up. His feet were blistered and sore from long days of walking. His neck was stiff from short sleep. His head pounded with the stress of dehydration and constant danger.

"I'm sick and kriffing tired of this!" Kett roared, jumping up in a frenzy. Vor stood back, wide-eyed, as Kett slammed his pitcher down on the bar, shattering it and bloodying his hand. Nia simply watched, all too familiar with the emotions he was now experiencing. "I'm sick of the droids! Sick of the clones! Sick of this damned war!" Kett flung the pouch of credits down and stormed out, Nia close behind.

"Take it easy, Kett," Nia cautioned. "Don't do something you're going to regret!"

"Shut up!" Kett snapped back. "This is going to be the proudest moment of my life!" He saw a local nearby who carried a blaster on his hip, and approached the man. "Excuse me," Kett said, wincing, "Can you help me bandage this?" Kett held out his bleeding left hand.

"Sure," the man replied, surprised and confused. As he turned, presumably to find a bandage, Kett lifted the man's blaster pistol with his uninjured right hand and stepped back.

"I gotta borrow this. You can have it right back when I'm done," Kett said.

"Hey! What the hell, you little thug!" The man watched helplessly as Kett dashed off down the street, blaster in hand, rushing for the battle droids standing outside. Nia followed from a distance, not wishing to be caught in the cross fire without a weapon of her own.

Kett spotted two droids walking together, inspecting the various shops and homes for signs of trouble. They had no idea what hit them as Kett ran past, firing wildly. "Haha!" Kett roared sadistically. Residents fled into their homes, fearful of the shootout that might ensue. Kett rushed headlong toward the droid perimeter, looking eagerly for a new target.

Three droids, one of them the green-striped commander, stood beside a fruit cart under a tattered awning. "Hold it –" The droid never finished its sentence. Before the other two could raise their blasters, Kett unloaded another series of bursts, reducing each to a smoking heap of metal. Greb must have noticed the commotion; Kett heard the distinct 'whoosh' of a heavy metal slug fly overhead, and its resulting collision with a droid standing behind him.

Kett wheeled around and spotted two more droids several meters away, firing at him. Kett fell to the ground, blaster in hand, firing wildly. The recoil of his 'borrowed' blaster pistol punctuated each trigger pull, a satisfying sensation even in the heat of combat. They fell not to his shots, but to piercing red bolts from another weapon behind him. Kett looked up to his left to see Nia standing beside him, hefting an SE-14 blaster from the droid commander he'd shot moments earlier.

"If you're going to take on the whole droid army, you'll need backup," Nia said as she helped Kett up. For that moment, the two found themselves united by a common foe.

"Agreed," Kett said. He looked up the hill and saw Greb running toward them. "Three is better than two, I guess."

"Wait up," Greb called out breathlessly. "What happened?"

"Apparently, we decided to take over the town," Nia announced sarcastically.

"Pretty much," Kett said. "I'm going for the landing pad next. Keep an eye on our backs," he instructed Greb.

"You got it," Greb answered, shouldering his slugthrower in favor of the same E-5 Kett had left behind earlier. They then entered Ytopea's perimeter once again, cautiously sweeping from side to side.

Kett could hear a child crying through a window above as they walked through a narrow alley, and the frightened voice of its mother as she consoled her child. He thought of his mother and sister, how close they had been. The image of their faces in his memory gave Kett determination. He would not rest until their murderers had paid the price, he told himself.

Kett motioned for the others to stay back as he approached the corner of a building, wary of any droids that might be waiting around the corner. Surely, by now, the droid garrison had been alerted to their presence; even without a commander, the remaining droids likely still held enough tactical programming to lay a trap for the group.

Greb leveled his blaster toward the alley entrance behind them in case a squad had followed them, and Nia stood close behind Kett as he knelt to peek into the alley running toward Ytopea's landing pad. Little eddies in the wind picked up bits of trash and dirt, whisking them together into piles on doorsteps and around waste disposals. A clothesline hung from one window, stretching across to the house opposite it.

Up a flight of cobbled stairs, at a bend in the path, stood two more battle droids. They could not be closer than fifty paces – too far a shot for Kett's inexperienced hands. Greb could take one easily, but its companion would surely have time to fire back while Greb reloaded. Kett turned about, still crouched, and filled the others in.

"There's two more, but they're too far up. Nia, watch my back. I'm going to sneak up on 'em if I can."

"Sure," Nia agreed. "Don't take too long."

Kett smiled. "Yeah, well, it won't take long if they see me here." He stood and peeked around once more. The droids had turned their backs now, and began to walk away. "Whup, change of plans. Follow me and stick to cover."

Kett sneaked out in a crouching walk, stopping to hide behind a trash bin as he watched the droids ahead. Nia and Greb followed behind him, likewise crouching and watching for other droids. Kett waited until the droids had nearly passed out of sight before moving up again, pointing his blaster into each adjacent alley in anticipation of another patrol.

The repulsive aroma of rotting food mixed with the pungent odor of animal feces, likely from field mice which had taken residence in the trash bins. If Kett had his way, there would be many a droid resting in those same rubbish piles within the hour. Kett hoped that these droids would lead them to a staging area, or the landing pad itself. As he and his companions made their way up the cobblestone steps, Kett saw that his assumption was correct.

There stood at least a dozen droids or more, gathered in a defensive circle around the Seperatist shuttle landed on the wide-open space that served as Ytopea's landing pad. Nia and Greb stayed a few meters behind, now aware of Kett's plan. Kett ducked behind a pile of shipping crates and surveyed the area from a gap between two of them. There he saw a robed alien figure gesturing towards a different kind of droid, one with a larger torso and a flat head with a visor. Kett listened closely and caught a few words from their conversation.

"For such a wisely praised model you seem to be completely inept!" the alien said. "It is terrible enough to be stranded out here with the clone armies about. It is worse yet to consider that even an expensive tactical droid cannot protect me against untrained farmers!"

"My programming did not include consideration of indigenous persons. That flaw has been corrected and compensated for," the droid replied in a distinct flat tone.

"Bantha shit, it's no wonder we have lost the war," the alien complained. "You droids, you just aren't capable of actually thinking, are you? It's all just calculations and probabilities, instead of actual possibilities! I want you to send your droids to sweep the entire town. Blast anyone who even looks suspicious. I'm getting out of here alive."

Kett smirked as he trained his blaster on the big droid's head. "Greb! Get up here!" Kett whispered harshly. "Hurry!"

Greb joined Kett behind the crates and asked, "What is it?"

"I want you to put a slug through that guy's head. See the one in the hood? I've got the funny looking droid. On your mark."

Greb loaded his slugthrower and rested it on the edge of a crate, careful to move slowly so the droids standing nearby would not notice. "Alright," Greb said as he found the alien in his scope. "Got a bead on him. Three, two, one…" Greb squeezed the trigger lightly, feeling the familiar click of his rifle's hammer swinging down hard on the cartridge's primer head. The butt dug deep into Greb's shoulder and a wisp of gray smoke belched from the barrel with a 'thup!'

Kett pulled his trigger as the slug flew, a bright red beam of energized gas streaking out toward his target. As Kett watched, the alien's skull disintegrated into a blue spray, and the big droid fell sideways from the force of his blast. The droids around them scurried about, now aware of Kett's presence.

"Go flank them," Kett told Greb. "Get around to the left side over there, and take Nia with you. I'll keep them busy here."

Greb nodded in agreement, then explained the plan to Nia. The two disappeared down a dark alley as Kett hunkered down, surrounded by a hail of blaster fire. Kett looked down at his blaster carbine, hefting it in his hands. It was worn from use, with a deep melted scrape where a clone's blaster bolt must have narrowly missed its target.

Kett recalled his memories of home. The first time he fired a blaster, with his father. On a hunting trip. Kett could not have been older than seven years at the time, but he still distinctly remembered the sporting blaster's heft. The empty case he aimed at, his support arm shaking under the weight. Jerking the trigger. Picking himself up after the recoil knocked his thin frame back. His father's hearty laughter as he handed the blaster back for another try.

Kett had not handled a blaster much for several years. They were banned in Centar City, and Kett rarely made it back out to the farm to keep in practice. He still remembered his father's lessons, though. Find your target. Aim steadily. Take a deep breath. Squeeze gently. Find a new target. Aim. Breathe. Fire. And fire again, and again. Kett shifted quickly from target to target, shooting them as they appeared.

His blaster sang the songs of his memories, keeping time with the tunes his mother played in the mornings as she fixed their breakfast. It chattered like the mirthful laughter of his sister when he jumped down from the counter, cape draped from his shoulders, the hero Jedi leaping to save her from a threatening wild beast. It pounded in Kett's hand like his heart as he watched his childhood crush walk past.

Kett felt a blow on his chin, like the punch of her jealous boyfriend. Kett punched back now with his blaster, sending the burly young man down to his knees and into the dirt. His heart soared with the pleasure of victory as he kicked the teen's lifeless body. But there was no boyfriend there. Only a droid, where his memory had been. Around him, the crumpled frames of ten more droids. There, across the landing pad, stood Greb and Nia, mouths agape.

Kett slowly returned to the present, his body still shaking and heaving with rage. He took a deep breath again. Walked over to the fallen tactical droid as it reached for a nearby blaster. "Look up here," Kett told it.

The droid, too broken to resist, obeyed.

"I don't know if you can feel anything. You're just a kriffing droid. But you know what death is."

Kett breathed out slowly, just like his father taught him. Squeezed the trigger slowly. Kett looked down at the heap of sparking parts, finally satisfied. There were no more of them left.

Nia walked up to his side, astonished. "You – you killed them all."

Kett cradled his jaw, still smoking where the droid had fired at point blank. The bolt had passed clean across his face, leaving a bloody burn from his chin to his left ear. His left hand still seeped where the shattered mug had sliced his palm. "Yeah. I damn sure did."

"You okay?" Greb asked. "That last one gotcha good, we should probably find you a doctor."

"I'm fine." Kett sighed, and turned to face his companions. "I want a shower. How about you guys?"

…

Kett sipped on his ale, seated once again at Big Al's. He wondered, now, why it was called Big Al's if the proprietor was, in fact, named Vor. 'Big Vor's' just didn't have the same ring, though. At least Vor had welcomed him back, considering the deactivated droids payment enough for the shattered mug.

Nia stood at the bar's end, flirting with one of the locals. Greb sat silently beside Kett, slowly draining a glass of water. Kett admired Greb as much as he pitied the boy; since Cordin's death, Greb had not touched an ounce of inebriant. On the other hand, Greb had no outlet for his grief.

Kett offered his drink, but Greb refused. "Look, kid. I'm moving out today. I've had enough of this town."

"Whatcha going to do?" Greb asked flatly.

Kett looked down into the foaming amber liquid in his glass. "There's a hell of allot of droids left. And clones, too. I figure the Empire's just as responsible for my family as the droids were."

"Got a friggin' death wish?" Greb interjected. "Those clones'll tear you apart by yourself."

"Guess so," Kett admitted. He took another sip and fiddled with a toothpick lying on the bar. "I was hoping to get some backup."

Greb didn't say anything.

Kett looked back over at Nia, who had avoided him for several days. Greb didn't talk about her whereabouts either. Kett wondered whether she had been selling her natural services for credits; after all, that was the way of many Twi'lek girls. She was attractive, like most of her species, but did not strike Kett as a likely prostitute. Nia seemed too proud. Then again, living beings could be full of surprises; that was a lesson Kett had learned many times in his short life.

That didn't mean she couldn't change her mind.

Kett walked up to the two, sizing her target up in his mind as Nia glanced warily at him. He was a little old for her, a little too married-looking. He had that haggard look just like many a middle-aged man, worn from long days spent working in the field and longer nights spent sleeping in the doghouse. No matter; Kett had been taught not to respect a man who paid for love.

"Didn't I see your kids running loose?" Kett interrupted, addressing Nia's prospective customer.

"Buzz off," Nia snapped.

The man bowed up, insulted by Kett's suggestion. "Go back home and play with your toys, boy."

"I might play with your wife tonight. She gets awful lonely when you're gone," Kett bit back. The tension was palpable now, as a few drinkers observed the confrontation.

The older man's face turned bright red as the other patrons turned to watch. "You little scumbag, I'm gonna whoop your little ass if you don't scurry back to your crib." The threat was serious, and by Kett's estimation, he was fully capable of carrying it out.

Kett put a hand on his blaster. "Gonna be hard with an extra hole in your skull, sleazeball."

They stared at each other for a long moment. Kett would not budge, and the old man had no apparent weapon of his own. Finally, the man turned slowly toward the door. Kett kept a cautious eye on him as he walked away.

"What the hell?" Nia complained. "Leave me alone, Kett. I don't need you –" She broke off as the man turned in the doorway, revealing a holdout blaster concealed in his sleeve and pointing it toward Kett. A blast rocked the barroom, flashing crimson red on the faces of astonished patrons.

The man's body fell, a murderous grin frozen to his face and a smoking hole in his chest. Kett put his blaster away behind his back and took another sip from his glass. "Don't need me?"

Nia had no answer, still in shock at the sight of a dead body lying in the doorway, flies already gathering. The bar was silent. Vor shook his head with disappointment, still wiping glasses.

"He looked a little ugly for you," Kett said to Nia. "Ya know, he could've turned that thing on you."

"I can take care of myself," she countered.

"Yeah, sure. And a week from tomorrow, you'll be sucking cock in joints on Nar Shadaa to keep some spice-pushing pimp from blasting your head off. If that's your idea of moving up, go get 'em," Kett warned.

Greb coughed suggestively, pointing to an officer in the doorway. The officer stared directly at Kett, who shrugged nonchalantly.

"It weren't no murder," Vor explained. "You know how Hec was, always runnin' around on Lindy. Guess his runnin' 'round finally caught up to him. He was 'bout to kill this fella, just didn't shoot fast enough."

The officer stepped in, approaching Kett. "That's how it went?"

"Pretty much," Kett said. "You know what they say about fools, never knowing when to stop? He just didn't know where to stop."

The officer looked back at the body, then at Kett again. He took a deep breath. "I know what you did about the droids, and we appreciate that. But I think it's about time you moved on, if you get my drift."

"Agreed," Kett said.

The officer turned to Nia. "You too. We don't want your business here."

"Yeah," chimed a patron a few meters away. "Ned says you took his money and just ran off. Put out or get out, bitch." The officer glared at him, and he cowed in his chair.

Kett didn't think Twi'leks could blush, but Nia's face turned to a deep purple. "I've got room in my squad," Kett offered.

Greb stepped up behind Kett. "I'm in."

Nia looked at Greb, almost lovingly. Greb was her final tie to the old life, all that was left of her clan. No point in letting him go, too. "Yeah," she said quietly. "Me too."

As they left, Kett stopped at Hec's prostrate body to address the crowd. "Here's what happens," he said, pointing at the corpse, "To anybody – _anybody_ – who messes with the Draxon clan. I take care of my own."

As Kett walked out into the afternoon sunlight, that familiar prairie breeze tugged at his coat again. The earthy smell of warm dirt filled Kett's nostrils, and the bright aqua sky lifted his spirits. Nia and Greb waited for him patiently, watching as he closed his eyes and soaked in the sunshine.

"Who is that guy?" somebody asked inside.

"Dunno," Vor said."

"Draxonus," Kett said to himself. "Let's go, clan. Gretor's a good two days from here."


End file.
